


Promises

by rebecca_selene



Category: Descendants (Disney Movies), Robin Hood (1973), Tangled (2010), The Little Mermaid (1989)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:54:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22038865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebecca_selene/pseuds/rebecca_selene
Summary: You didn’t really think Prince Ben came up with that idea all on his own, did you?
Relationships: Ariel's Daughter/Rapunzel's Daughter, Original Female Character/Original Female Character
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10
Collections: Fandom Trumps Hate 2019





	Promises

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Themiscyra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Themiscyra/gifts).



> written for [themiscyra](https://themiscyra.dreamwidth.org/) for [fandomtrumpshate](https://fandomtrumpshate.dreamwidth.org/) 2019.

“Welcome to Queen Rapunzel and King Eugene of Corona, and their daughter, Princess Ivy!”

Ivy followed her parents down the wide stairway into the ballroom, doing her best to maneuver in the stiffness of her new deep blue dress. Ivy grumbled inwardly again that her mother had insisted on the new dress instead of letting her be comfortable in a well-worn one.

New figures appeared at the entryway, and Ivy jealously eyed Diana’s soft, elegantly tailored emerald suit shining against her red fur. “Representing His Majesty King Richard of England, Sir Robin and Dame Marian of Sherwood Forest, and their daughter, Lady Diana.” At the bottom of the stairway, Diana caught Ivy’s eye and cast her a warning look. Ivy turned away, knowing Diana thought her plan was a terrible idea. She steeled herself again to go through with it.

“And finally, welcome to your hosts for the Second Decennial Assembly of the Coastal Kingdoms, Queen Ariel and King Eric of Aelandia, and their daughter, Princess Clara!”

Ivy clapped along with the rest of the guests as the royal family descended. She vaguely remembered Princess Clara from the last Assembly, when their parents had introduced them to each other and thought they’d become the best of friends since they were nearly the same age. But Clara had been a shy seven-year-old and hidden behind her mother’s skirts when Ivy attempted to play tag with her. Growing bored, Ivy had found Diana willing to play and had never looked back since.

The girl coming down the staircase now stood straight, her long red hair curling down across her lavender dress. She nodded politely at the guests they passed but didn’t speak to anyone the way her parents were. Ivy shook her head, not finding anything new to interest her in reattempting a friendship, and faced the room to lay her plan.

Now that the hosting royal family had arrived, heralding the end of the anticipated wave of guests, Ivy knew there would be no better opportunity to get her ideas out than the opening reception of the Assembly, nor to a more important or powerful group of people. She watched Diana from across the room, wishing she had the support of her best friend in the delivery method Ivy had chosen for a cause they’d both stayed up late into the night discussing. She looked away quickly when Diana happened to turn toward her and forced herself to focus.

Nodding politely at strangers and acquaintances along the way, Ivy worked the room until she was near the empty dais where the Queen and King’s thrones sat. She made small talk with a countess until, hearing the current song slow toward its end, she excused herself from the conversation.

At the resounding last beat, she took a step onto the dais, her heart racing. In the silent pause between songs, she completed the last two steps to the top of the platform and turned. The conductor raised her arms to start the next song.

“Good evening, one and all.” Ivy let her voice ring out, modulating it to carry without sounding like a bellow. The conductor lowered her arms as the heads of everyone nearby turned to look at Ivy. She began to sweat.

“Esteemed peers of the realms,” she continued, hearing the conversation lull in a wave toward the entrance stairway as guests realized there was a speaker. “My apologies for interrupting such a lovely reception.”

A bit of movement toward her right caught her attention. Her parents were moving forward in the crowd toward her. She looked away. “I hope you all will forgive my rudeness, for I have a very important matter that I think should be the foremost topic of discussion at this year’s Assembly.”

Her parents reached the edge of the line of guests at the bottom of the platform, but they didn’t come up to stand beside her or drag her away. Ivy took another deep breath, bringing the words she’d practiced repeatedly to the front of her mind. “As we all know, the Isle of the Lost has existed as a prison for villains for many years. Its existence is meant to keep us safe, or at least to feel safe.”

“Hear, hear!” someone shouted, followed by several cheers.

Distracted, Ivy frowned and shook her head. “No, no! We cannot just create a prison and then foist untried criminals there to rot and die!”

“Why not?” someone called. Murmurs spread through the crowd, and Ivy knew she was losing their attention before she’d even begun to make her argument.

“I don’t deny that many of the villains on that island were dangerous and did real harm,” Ivy said, trying to lure attention back to her by sounding soft and conciliatory. Diana had always told her she never made it sound genuine, but she had to try. “But it’s been so many years since any of them have even attempted to escape or harm anyone else. And we know they probably have the power to do so if they really banded together and tried.”

The murmurs grew more urgent. Ivy raised her hands placatingly. “What I’m saying is that the kingdoms sentenced them all to life in exile. I’ve read the documents about that decision. They didn’t get any trials. There was no weighing of evidence or sentencing based on the type of crime. They got none of the consideration or fairness we give to people who are accused of crimes today.”

“And they shouldn’t!” someone yelled.

“You’re too young to remember!” someone else shouted.

“I hope my parents wanted to raise me to do the right thing,” Ivy said, her voice straining against the impulse to yell sense into everyone. “And I hope you wanted to raise your children to do the same.”

“What are you suggesting is the right thing?” asked the countess Ivy had been chatting with. Her brow was furrowed with disbelief, but she sounded like she was genuinely trying to understand. “To let them free because it’s been a few years?”

Ivy took a deep breath. “I’m suggesting that we provide the people on the island the same chance to reform that we give everyone else in our realms.” She pointedly avoided looking at her father. “I’m reminding everyone that they have children too who were never even given a first chance. I’m suggesting we reassess the danger of the people on that island and look to reintegrate those who want to join us as law-abiding citizens.”

A roar of protest rose instantly. People shuffled anxiously, some even casting worried glances toward the edges of the room as if villains from their nightmares would appear there at any moment to torment them. Ivy nearly rolled her eyes, wondering at the culture of fear they’d all adopted toward the island they just wanted to forget, but Ivy couldn’t let go.

She felt a tug at her hand and looked down. Rapunzel lead her off the dais, her expression torn between worry and...was that hurt? Ivy felt a twinge of guilt, which made her anger flare.

“Mom—”

“This wasn’t the time or place,” Eugene said, brow furrowed to match his wife’s.

Ivy stared at him, wide-eyed. “I thought you of all people would understand…what makes you different that you get a second chance but not them?”

Eugene winced, and the guilt/anger speared through Ivy again. Before they could say any more, Queen Ariel and King Eric called for quiet from the top of the dais where they’d replaced her position.

“I’m sure Princess Ivy means well, and clearly she feels strongly to bring her thoughts to our attention,” King Eric said. “As much as we’d like these assemblies to fill our bellies more than our minds”—he gave a quick smile, causing a few people to laugh and the tension in the room to lighten—“as leaders of our kingdoms, we must address the concerns of our people.”

“It isn’t a concern of the people.” One light-skinned man in a sharp gray suit stepped forward.

King Eric inclined his head. “Lord Maxwell.”

“Your Majesty.” Lord Maxwell turned a glare toward Ivy. “This is the first I’ve heard of any such concerns over the island. Am I alone?” He made a show of looking around, and to Ivy’s annoyance, everyone shook their head. “This is clearly a grasp at power and attention from the princess. I would hate any further encouragement of this nonsense to have an ill influence on our own Princess Clara.” Heads turned toward Clara, whose cheeks flamed as red as her hair.

“Clara has a voice,” Queen Ariel said, her words icy around the edges. “You might ask for her opinion before presuming to use it in your argument.”

Red-faced, Lord Maxwell nevertheless went on, “I think we’ve heard enough from opinionated young girls for the evening.”

“There can never be enough from opinionated young girls,” Rapunzel replied. “Even if their delivery could use some work.” She cast an exasperated look at Ivy, who took that opportunity to chime back in.

“If I had spoken demurely and politely, as _some_ in the room clearly wish women to behave, I would have received some polite smiles and nods to humor me before the conversation went on to something completely different, my words forgotten. There would never have been a discussion like this one, though I wish you all would focus on the issue I’ve presented instead of bickering about the way I’ve presented it.”

“There are _procedures_ for considering such a suggestion,” someone said. “And they’re in place for good reason!”

“Yes, and your suggestion would be rightfully laughed out of the room!” Lord Maxwell said, puffing out his chest.

“For someone so concerned with ill influences,” King Eric said with a frown, “you are remarkably at ease with being impolite.”

“Now see here!”

Voices bubbled up then, the combined clamor echoing off the ballroom ceiling. Ivy tried to redirect the conversation to the island, but it was no use.

She felt a tug at her elbow and found Princess Clara at her side. Clara jerked her head toward the door.

Ivy’s brow furrowed, but she followed Clara anyway. When they were in the hall, she whispered, “They’re going to know I’m gone and come find me.”

Clara smiled, leading Ivy down the hallway. When they turned a corner and were out of sight of the ballroom doors, Clara pressed her hands against the wall. Ivy’s eyes widened as a small, hidden doorway slid away. “Come on.” Clara took Ivy’s hand and led her inside. The doorway slid behind them, sealing the passageway in darkness.

Ivy heard fumbling, and after a moment the dark stone walls glimmered in a small radius of red and orange from a lighter in Clara’s hand. Ivy shivered and crossed her arms as she looked around. “Where are we?”

“Welcome to the real castle, Ivy of Corona.”

***

Clara led Ivy down winding corridors until they emerged into a small room with a high window. Moonlight filtered in enough to illuminate the sparse furnishings. Ivy pressed her hand against a cushioned seat, expecting dust to puff out of it, but nothing happened.

A flicker of firelight made it clear the furniture was dust-free and surprisingly welcoming. Clara had lit an assortment of candles on the nearby table that, along with tapestries hanging on the walls, made the room feel…rather cozy. Various tiny objects covered the table and narrow shelves along the walls. On the floor stood several large pots and armored figurines.

“What is this place?” Ivy asked. Her voice echoed, and she winced at the loudness.

“My sanctuary,” Clara replied in a softer tone. She sat on the lounge and gestured for Ivy to take a seat on the chair she’d tested for dust. 

Ivy sat. The flames made merry flickers on the stone walls. “No one will find us here?”

Clara shrugged. “My parents might know about the passages, but they’ve never come through them or told anyone about them that I know of. I think they know I like coming here when things…well, I don’t think anyone will find us here. No.”

Ivy noted Clara’s pause but decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth. Her father had taught her that lesson well. “I’ll have to go back eventually, but thanks. Who else have you brought here before?”

Clara shook her head. “No one.”

Ivy blinked. “Really? I’m the first one?” Clara nodded. “Oh. Well. I’m…honored.”

Clara waved a hand. “It’s nothing. Damsel in distress, and all that.” But Ivy could see the tension in Clara’s shoulders and movements. She sat upright, not in the position of someone who’d taken refuge in their sanctuary. Not with someone else in there with her.

“I won’t tell anyone about this place,” Ivy promised. “Not that I could get back here anyway. You could leave me here and I’d be lost in the walls of your castle forever.” She’d intended to speak jokingly, but suddenly her mother’s stories about being locked away in a small space, unable to get out, filled her mind. Her chest tightened.

“I won’t let that happen.”

The earnestness in Clara’s voice eased Ivy’s worries a bit. She looked around the room again, trying to find something to turn the conversation toward. “Where did you get all these things?”

“I’ve collected them since I was a kid. No one seems to miss them, and they make me happy.”

Ivy stood and reached for a square object on the table. Clara jumped up. “Oh please don’t touch anything!” Ivy froze, arm outstretched, then sat back down again. Clara wrung her hands, looking anywhere but at Ivy. “I’m sorry. That was very rude of me. It’s just that…these things are special to me. I’m…overprotective.” She exhaled and stared at the ceiling. “That doesn’t even make sense when I say it out loud. They’re just things.”

But Ivy knew now they weren’t _just things_ to Clara. “It’s okay.” She didn’t understand fully, but she knew the rules of being a guest, even if she didn’t always follow them. Right now, she felt inclined to follow them. “I won’t touch anything. But can you show them to me?”

Clara’s eyes lit up. “Yes! This is a music box.” She took up the object Ivy had been about to touch and opened it to show off its pink-felted interior, empty except for a small ballerina figure that jumped up when the lid lifted away. Clara wound the knob on the bottom of the box, and the ballerina started to turn to a gentle tinkling tune. “It’s one of the first things I brought here. Sometimes when I’m especially…well, sometimes it helps me get to sleep.”

“It’s lovely.” Ivy didn’t particularly care about the music box, but she did find Clara’s attachment to it oddly endearing. Ivy oohed and aahed over everything Clara showed her, keeping her hands firmly in her lap the whole time.

When Ivy couldn’t hold back a yawn in the middle of a long story about a gold candlestick holder, Clara set it down and gave an apologetic smile. “It’s probably pretty late. Do you want to go back?”

Ivy thought the heat from her actions should have died down by now. “Yeah.”

Clara blew out all but one candle, which she set into an iron candlestick holder (explaining that the gold one was too precious to take through the tunnels with them) and then lead Ivy back through the passageway. She placed her ear against the door and opened it when she deemed the coast clear.

Ivy heard no sounds from the ballroom as they approached, the reception seeming to have ended some time ago. “I’ll take you to your rooms,” Clara said.

Ivy groaned internally at the thought of facing her parents after the spectacle she’d made, but she knew she’d have to eventually. They climbed the stairs, the route to the guest wing nearly as incomprehensible as the hidden passageway.

They arrived at the right room, and Ivy found herself reluctant to part from Clara. She realized she’d actually enjoyed the last couple hours, certainly more than any ball she’d ever attended. “Thanks,” she said.

“You’re welcome. Well…good night, then.” Clara turned to leave.

“Wait. Why did you bring me to your private place?”

“It was the only place I could think of that no one would find you.”

“Yes, but why try to get me away from everyone in the first place, after what I’d done?”

Clara frowned. “I only offered you what you’d been arguing for. A second chance. Time for everyone to reflect and cool down. Or did I interpret you wrong?”

Ivy felt a wash of clarity come over her. Clara had taken her words and put them into practice, and she hadn’t even noticed. “Yes,” Ivy breathed. “That’s exactly what I was saying. Thank you.”

Clara’s brow cleared. “Good night, Ivy.”

“Good night, Clara.”

***

Clara was surprised the next day when Ivy and Lady Diana approached her as she was exiting the ballroom after lunch. Ivy motioned her over, away from the milling guests. With a quick glance around, Clara broke away from the crowd and walked over to them. Ivy ushered them all around the corner and into an empty parlor.

“Clara, Diana. Diana, Clara,” Ivy introduced before making them all sit down. Clara nodded to Diana and opened her mouth to say what a pleasure it was to make her acquaintance, but Ivy continued, “Clara, we’ve been talking about how to make people take us seriously.”

“We didn’t get very far since most of her morning was spent being lectured,” Diana said. Ivy wrinkled her nose at her. “Mostly lots of rejected ideas.”

Clara opened her mouth again, but Ivy barreled forward. “Except for one. We—”

Diana shoved at Ivy. “Let her talk, dammit. She hasn’t gotten a word in edgewise since you kidnapped her.”

Ivy looked at Clara, surprised. “Oh. Were you going to say something?”

Clara licked her lips. “Just that the conversations I’ve heard so far today haven’t been…favorable to your speech yesterday. I’m not sure you’d find many people willing to take you seriously right now.”

Diana nodded. “That’s what we concluded too. Ivy told me you helped her last night, and she wanted to bring you in on her plotting.”

Clara cast an alarmed look at Ivy, who hastened to say, “I told her you knew of a room out of the way that most people don’t visit and that I couldn’t find the way again if I tried. That’s it.”

Relieved that her sanctuary was safe, Clara relaxed.

“Such secrecy,” Diana said with a grin, but she didn’t pry.

“Anyway,” Ivy continued, “since we’re not going to get help, I’m going to do it myself.”

“Do what yourself?” Clara asked, curious despite herself. Something about Ivy’s energy sparked her own.

“Go to the island and establish a relationship.”

Clara’s brain went haywire, then stopped completely the more she tried to contemplate those words. “Oh. Um. How?”

“On a ship, of course,” Ivy replied.

“You want to take a ship into Auradonian waters?” Clara’s voice pitched high at the end of the question.

“Yes. It’s a good thing we have peaceful relationships with our neighboring kingdoms, isn’t it?”

Clara didn’t like the promise of mischief in Ivy’s eyes.

“And what is your exact plan for us, oh savior of the villains?” Diana asked.

Ivy looked at her, surprised. “Us? You want to come with me? Why go to the island but not back me up at the reception?”

“The reception was only ever going to be an embarrassment,” Diana replied as if the answer was obvious. “This is an adventure.”

“Right. Well, the problem is that we need a crew.”

Clara inhaled. “No, you don’t.”

Ivy’s eyebrow rose. “I don’t know how to sail. I’m pretty sure Diana doesn’t. Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.” Ivy sat back, nonplussed. Diana gave Clara an approving nod. “But three people can’t sail an entire ship by themselves.”

“No,” Clara conceded, smiling internally at Ivy’s automatic inclusion of her in the voyage. “But three people can manage a yacht. The actual good thing is that Auradonian waters and the island are only a few hours from here.”

“Where are we going to get a yacht?” Diana asked.

Clara blinked at her. “I have a yacht.”

“Like, a personal yacht all to yourself?” Ivy asked.

Clara nodded, and Diana whistled. “Fancy.”

“We like the ocean,” Clara explained quietly, sensing something was unexpected about her response and shrinking into herself. “A lot.”

Ivy clapped her hands. “The plan is coming along even more perfectly than I imagined.” She smiled broadly at Clara, who perked up again.

“What was your plan to get a ship and a crew if you didn’t have a yacht waiting for you?” Diana asked Ivy.

“Well, it involved you contacting Peter Pan and the Lost Boys. Didn’t they requisition a ship?”

“Are you serious? They’re kids, they’re back in England, and it’s a pirate ship.”

“I…hadn’t gotten that far in the plan,” Ivy admitted.

Diana sighed and leaned her head back against the wall. “Thank Tod for Clara, then.”

Ivy grinned at Clara. “Thank Tod, indeed.”

“And when we get there?” Clara asked, knowing the whole thing was probably a terrible idea but letting herself get caught up in Ivy’s enthusiasm.

“We’re strictly information gathering, trying to see if there’s anyone who wants a second chance. We’re going to talk. That’s it.”

“Because your first attempt at talking went _so_ well,” Diana pointed out.

“No one got hurt. What’s the harm in talking?”

***

Clara closed her eyes against the sea’s spray, tilting her head up to catch the sun fully on her face. She breathed in deeply, the salty tang of ocean water settling into place in her lungs. With all the preparations for this year’s Assembly there hadn’t been time to voyage out for a vacation on the sea like she and her parents usually did during the summer, and Clara hadn’t even realized how much she’d missed it until now. It had been easy to convince the dockhands she needed to stretch her sea legs after being confined to the land for so long.

They’d never sailed in this direction, though, and after a while Clara opened her eyes again to watch the island grow from a blip on the horizon to a solid land mass. 

Ivy and Diana joined her at the rail. “You look like you belong here,” Diana remarked dully as she bent over the banister, tail and ears lying limply.

Clara grinned and bounced on the balls of her feet, easily keeping her balance on the swaying deck. “You’ll get used to it.”

“How does someone from a coastal kingdom get seasick, anyway?” Ivy teased.

Diana snorted. “I’m a _fox_. I live in a _forest_. I would like to go _back_ to the forest immediately.”

Clara put a finger to her chin and looked up to the sky. “Well,” she said slowly, “I estimate it would take…approximately three weeks to sail to England from here.”

Diana groaned, and Ivy and Clara burst into giggles. Clara caught Ivy’s eye, and she felt warmth bubble inside her that had nothing to do with the sunshine.

The yacht rocked violently to the side, throwing Clara and Ivy against the railing.

“I’ll get used to _this_?” Diana complained.

The yacht rocked again. Clara felt the happiness drain from her body. “This isn’t normal,” she said. Ivy’s eyes had widened.

Something large broke the surface of the water only a dozen or so yards away. Another object rose to their left and slapped back down into the water, spraying them and making the deck slick. Clara watched in horror as a huge gray-skinned face with a shock of white hair focused on their tiny yacht. She recognized the figure from her parents’ stories instantly.

“Ursula,” she whispered to Ivy and Diana.

“Now what do we have here?” Ursula crowed, stilling enough that the yacht stop rolling. Diana had placed her bow in her hand, her face a grimace as she no doubt fought against her nausea to pay attention.

Ivy raised a hand. “Hello, Ursula! My name is Ivy. I’ve come from the Kingdom of Corona to parley with the prisoners of this island.”

A tentacle slashed down again, renewing the chilling wet over their bodies. Clara started to shiver despite the hot sunlight.

“Oh, but I don’t care to parley with you.” And Ursula turned her attention to Clara, whose insides went cold. A tentacle pointed toward her. “You, on the other hand, are just the toy I want to play with.”

“We’ve never met. I have nothing you want,” Clara said, voice shaking.

“You are the spitting image of your mother, and _she_ still owes me her soul!”

A tentacle swiped toward them. Clara pushed Ivy onto the deck. She felt something thick and slimy wrap around her torso and screamed as her body hurtled away from Ivy.

“No!” Ivy scrambled up and reached for Clara, but the tentacle had already pulled Clara to Ursula’s side, her body suspended over open ocean. Ivy leaned over the side of the yacht as if just a few inches more would bring her to Clara. Diana pulled Ivy back before she fell into the waves.

Ursula’s laugh boomed through the sky. Clara felt its vibrations in the flesh around her. “Do I have something you want, little one?” She shook Clara, making her dizzy. Clara struggled to escape the sticky suckers and tight grip. Panic rose in her, and her lungs gasped for air. “I’ll make you a deal.”

“We’re trying to help you!” Ivy yelled, her tiny human voice nearly lost in the wind.

“Oh, but I can help myself well enough,” Ursula countered. Her tentacle bucked, and suddenly Clara found herself plunged completely into the icy sea. She screamed, and her lungs filled with salty water. Ursula brought her back up, and she coughed violently.

“What do you want?” Ivy screamed. Beside her, Diana had her bow trained on Ursula.

“I want my freedom!”

Ivy shook her head. “That’s what we came here for, you idiot! You don’t have to do this!”

“Oh, no, sweet little one. You came here to offer me freedom on _your_ terms,” Ursula practically cooed. “But I want it on _my_ terms.”

Clara found herself underwater again, for far longer than she’d been there the first time. When Ursula raised her up, black spots dotted her vision. She shivered uncontrollably. Her thoughts seemed to have frozen.

“Stop! Stop it!” Ivy’s voice sounded dull and fuzzy to Clara’s ears. She heard more speaking, but she couldn’t make out the words. Her body submerged again, and panic exploded in her chest. She couldn’t remember why they were there, why this was happening to her, could barely remember her name. But she knew she couldn’t continue being held like this, having no control, barely able to breathe.

She felt a warmth in her toes, shocking compared to the icy depths of the water. It spiked up to her torso, and her legs felt stronger. Desperately she kicked, her legs working in tandem, and to her surprise, she slipped out of the tentacle’s grasp.

She swam away as quickly as she could, and when the churning of tentacles seemed not to be in grasping distance, she slowed and turned to get a better idea of what was happening.

Only then did she realize that she was still underwater, and that she was breathing.

Clara screamed and instinctively shot toward the surface. Her head broke the water.

“You won’t get away that easily!” Ursula moved toward Clara, tentacles outstretched.

“NO!” The nearby shout startled her. She twisted around.

Trident raised, her grandfather swam between her and Ursula. A small army of mermaids flanked him. Her aunts and their husbands and wives formed a protective circle around her. Attina gathered Clara into a solid embrace, and Clara clutched at her, whimpering.

“King Triton.” Ursula’s voice took on a wariness. “Surely we can work out a suitable arrangement.”

Magic poured from Triton’s trident. Ursula hissed and tried to swim away, but the shackles forming around her tentacles and wrists prevented her. Triton swung the trident down, and Ursula submerged. Triton and the mermaids flanking him went with her, leaving Clara shaking while her aunts and uncles tried to soothe her.

A few minutes later, the other mermaids reappeared. Triton looked tired and angry, but his gaze cleared as he approached Clara. “We imprisoned her in a cave. She can’t hurt anyone anymore. Are you all right?”

“Grandpa!” Clara threw herself from Attina into his arms and sobbed. “Please take me home.”

His arms tightened around her. “Of course. Can you swim on your own?”

The odd question pushed through some of Clara’s fear. “Swim?” She looked toward the yacht. A few mermaids bobbed near it, seeming to converse with Ivy and Diana. Ivy kept looking toward Clara. “What about the yacht?”

Triton shared a glance with Attina, which made Clara’s heart skip a beat. “Clara, you’re swimming now,” he said gently.

And Clara realized she wasn’t clinging onto Triton in the same way he’d carried her in the ocean whenever he visited. The gravity felt wrong. She looked down and saw a swathe of turquoise where her tan pants had been when they left that morning.

Experimentally, feeling detached from reality, she tried to move her foot. A fin twitched underwater. “Oh,” she whispered. Emotions she couldn’t sort through flooded her, alternating between residual fear and wonder and confusion and delight.

“You didn’t know you transformed yourself?” Attina asked.

Clara looked up. “Me?” she squeaked. “Grandpa, it wasn’t you?”

Triton shook his head. “No. You had your tail when we arrived.”

Clara rested her head against his chest and couldn’t summon the energy to make her thoughts coherent, let alone to speak them out loud. She let Attina turn her toward shore and numbly set off with her family.

***

Ivy’s dread grew as they approached shore. The yacht had pulled ahead of Clara, the entourage around her slow as she clearly struggled to move with her tail during the first hour or so of the journey back.

Ivy and Diana disembarked, Ivy feeling exhausted and apprehensive. Several limousines waited past the dock, and their parents climbed out as they stepped onto the sand.

Looking relieved to be back on solid earth, Diana squeezed Ivy’s shoulder before making her way to Robin and Marian. “I’m okay,” Ivy assured her own parents.

“What happened?” Eugene asked, glancing behind Ivy. Ivy followed his gaze and saw that a small group of mermaids had pulled ahead of Clara to converse at the shoreline with Queen Ariel and King Eric, no doubt apprising them of the situation.

Ivy closed her eyes, not wanting to tell her parents but knowing there was no way out of it. “We went out on Clara’s yacht.”

“We figured that when we all realized you three were missing, along with the yacht,” Rapunzel said. “Where did you go?”

“Mom…”

“Ivy.”

Ivy took a deep breath and opened her eyes. Clara had gotten close enough to shore for Ariel and Eric to wade out into the shallows to greet her, heedless of their expensive clothing. “Mom!” Ivy heard Clara cry before launching herself awkwardly into the queen’s embrace. “Mom, please don’t be mad.”

“I want to make sure Clara’s okay,” Ivy said, starting toward her.

Rapunzel stopped her. “Why is Clara is the water?” she asked, her voice going hard.

Ivy looked toward the sky. “She has a mermaid tail now.”

“ _How_ did she get a mermaid tail?”

“She…someone attacked us. Ursula attacked us. According to the mermaids, Clara got scared enough that she changed herself into her mermaid form.”

Her father cursed, and Ivy wished a hole would swallow her up.

After a long moment, voice still hard, her mother said, “Let’s see if we can help fix the mess you’ve made.”

Ariel was the first to see them. “There are reasons we placed the villains on that island,” she said, clutching Clara to her chest. “They caused us great harm, and we didn’t want our children to face the same dangers we had to! Are you satisfied now that we did the right thing? Was it worth nearly getting yourselves and my daughter killed for you to believe us?”

Ivy hung her head, tears now spilling down her cheeks. Clara’s tail flicked against the surface of the water, and Ivy felt like she was five years old again being caught at some prank or another, only much, much worse.

Eugene placed a hand on her shoulder. “Ariel, Eric, if there’s anything we can do—”

“Please go.” Ariel stroked Clara’s hair. “I have to take care of my daughter.”

Eugene steered Ivy toward one of the waiting limousines, Rapunzel piling in behind her before the driver started the engine and drove them away. They were quiet for a long time, Ivy too ashamed to look at her parents. She took a tissue from the limousine’s sidebar and blew her nose.

Eugene sighed. “Ivy, I understand why you started this crusade, but you need to understand that we can, and did, fight our own battles.”

“Why is this the cause you decided on?” Rapunzel asked. “What’s so dissatisfying about your world that you had to open these old wounds?”

Ivy reached for another tissue. “Nothing. I’m sorry,” she whispered. After a moment, two pairs of arms encircled her, and she burst into tears.

***

Her parents had never punished her by making her stay in her room, but Ivy took it upon herself to stay there anyway. For the next three days of the Assembly, she kept out of the way so her parents could smooth over her actions. On Friday afternoon, the day before the Assembly was scheduled to end, Diana stopped by.

“Moping doesn’t suit you,” she said by way of greeting, plopping herself down on one of the chairs in the main sitting room of Ivy’s guest suite.

“How did your parents take it?” Ivy asked, ignoring the jibe.

“They were angry until I reminded them that _someone_ had to watch your back, and I was the best person to do it.” Diana flashed a cheeky grin.

“And that excuse worked?”

“It always does. And it’s true, unless you don’t think I’m qualified?” Diana stuck out her lower lip.

Ivy threw a lounge pillow at her. “Pouting doesn’t suit _you_.”

Diana laughed and tucked the pillow under her arms. “Have you really been in here the entirety of the last three days?”

“Yes. It’s no less than I deserve.”

“Uh huh. We’ve spent every summer together for the last decade and other times besides. I lost count of your shenanigans the first day we met. You’ll get over it like you always do.”

“This time was a pretty big mistake.”

“Yeah, maybe you’ll actually learn something this time. Oh, Clara was at the lunch banquet today. She’s got her legs back.”

Ivy slumped against the back of the couch in relief. “Good. Now it’s just the damage from the trauma she experienced that needs to heal back to normal.”

Diana rolled her eyes. “She seems fine, Drama Queen. She told me herself. I spoke to her for a minute before Queen Ariel saw and glared me away. Clara asked where you’ve been.” Diana raised her eyebrow pointedly.

“No doubt so she could yell at me in person.” But Ivy remembered Clara leading her back to her rooms the first night of the Assembly. She knew where Ivy was staying, so why didn’t she take advantage of that knowledge to storm down her door? Why hadn’t Queen Ariel and King Eric done that, either?

Diana shot Ivy a pitying look. “I don’t think that girl has an angry bone in her body. I was just as much in on the plan as you were, and she was perfectly happy to talk to me.”

“I’m the one who stood up in front of everyone and started this whole mess. It’s probably better for our parents that I’m out of the way anyway.”

“True.” Diana stood and went to the door. “You’re still a Drama Queen.” She stuck her tongue out at Ivy like they used to when they were 11, and Ivy stuck her tongue back. Laughing, Diana departed, and the silliness made Ivy feel better, like things really would go back to normal.

Maybe she would show her face for the last day and a half of the Assembly, test the waters to make sure no one exploded from her presence. She rolled the thought of Clara asking after her in her mind, liking the promise of it.

***

Ivy didn’t get a chance to mingle with the guests that evening, because one of them came to her. When she opened her door at the knock and found a guard standing at attention, her stomach plummeted. Thoughts of being locked in a cold dank cell or Clara with an angry, accusatory expression tripped over themselves in her mind.

“His Highness Prince Ben of Auradon requests an audience,” the guard announced.

Ivy blinked and couldn’t find her voice as she worked through those words. After a long pause, the guard cocked his head. “Princess?”

She shook herself. “Of course. When?”

Someone stepped up next to the guard. “Now?” Prince Ben asked, flashing a sheepish smile. “Apologies for the suddenness, but it’s been difficult for me to get away from the proceedings. My parents are probably going to flay me when they find out I’m missing as it is.”

She doubted that very much, but she stepped aside and summoned her best courtly manners. “Come in. To what do I owe the honor, Prince Ben?”

He waved away her words as he took the same chair Diana had sat in earlier. “Ben, please. You don’t need to be formal with me. Besides, we both know you prefer the more direct route anyway.” He grinned.

The soldier didn’t seem inclined to enter, so Ivy shut the door and sat across from Ben. “I do,” she conceded, “but that has gotten me into a heap of trouble recently.”

“Oh, I heard!” Ben seemed utterly delighted by the tale. “You’ve got guts, Princess, and the drive to see things through.”

Ivy was starting to get annoyed by his joviality. “It was dangerous and stupid, and I don’t need a groupie trying to soften me up so they can get a place on the next mistake I make, because there won’t be one. Why are you here?”

Ben’s smile faded a bit and he straightened up, but to Ivy’s relief, he didn’t seem angry at her bluntness. “You’re right that it was dangerous, and that’s exactly why I’m here.”

Ivy cocked her head, and he continued, “We all heard your speech at the reception. Obviously some of the villains like Ursula are still proving themselves too dangerous to be given a second chance. But I’ve thought about it, and like you said, there are people on that island who never even got a first chance.”

“Their children.”

Ben nodded eagerly. “Exactly. It seemed like everyone at the reception wanted to ignore the island forever, and you wanted to open the island up. I think we can find a fair solution in the middle somewhere.”

“What exactly are you proposing?”

“I think we should select just a few people from the island to offer a trial period living in Auradon. A few children to join our high school. That way we’d be able to offer them more targeted help, and be able to provide more security.”

“Not everyone is going to feel safe,” Ivy said, remembering the fear from many of the reception’s guests. Fear she should have heeded.

“No,” Ben agreed, “but this plan puts our resources to best use and seems to be the best of both sides. What do you think?”

“Why are you asking me?”

“It was your idea initially. I’m just proposing a different method. Discussion is the purpose of the Assembly, after all.”

Ivy smirked. “Open discussion, not closed between two people.”

Ben shrugged. “You did try that. Anyway, I wanted to talk to you first, to make sure you’re on board. I plan to make it my first royal decree, and it would aid in strengthening the relationship between our kingdoms to make it a joint one.”

Ivy shuddered. “No. Keep my name out of it. After this whole debacle, associating me with this plan would doom it from the start.”

Ben’s expression fell. “Oh.” 

Ivy leaned forward and smiled at him. “I’m glad someone took the initial idea seriously, and that you’re a lot smarter than I am in implementing it. You’ll make a great king.”

He returned the smile and rose. “Thank you. Just make sure you come to me first the next time you have a grand idea.”

Ivy walked him to the door. “I will.”

After he left, Ivy sagged against the door in relief. It felt like a huge weight had been taken off her shoulders. She felt both exhausted and energized, and she had to tell someone. Without a second thought, she broke her self-imposed confinement and ran for Diana’s rooms.

***

Diana requested dinner to be sent to her rooms for them and demanded every detail of the meeting from Ivy.

“And you told him _not_ to give you any credit?” Diana asked. She reached across the table and placed the back of her hand against Ivy’s forehead. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Ivy shook her head, feeling drained now that the initial excitement had passed after relating Ben’s plans to Diana. “Yes,” she said, supporting her head in her left hand with her elbow on the table. “It’s been a long week, is all, and we have to travel home tomorrow.” She couldn’t pinpoint why that thought didn’t improve her sudden lethargy. Maybe she _was_ getting sick.

“Prince Ben is taking your idea and implementing it, only in a much better, safer way,” Diana said. “You’ve been heard. You should be happy. What’s wrong?”

Ivy pushed a pea around her plate. “Dunno.”

“Have you told Clara yet?”

“Why would I do that? We should never have brought her in on the plan in the first place.”

Diana jabbed her fork in Ivy’s direction. The effect wasn’t nearly as threatening with a penne noodle on the end. “It was _your_ idea to bring her in, not ours. And I told you she wants to see you.”

“She’s better off without me ruining her life.”

“So you’re making that decision for her? Didn’t we just establish that you’re terrible at making decisions?”

“I’m still making it.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Obviously,” Ivy said without heat.

“Normally people who get what they want and succeed in trying to improve the world don’t sulk.”

Ivy huffed. “Okay, then tell me, oh great therapist, what did your parents do after they’d beaten the corrupt sheriff and everything was right again? What did my parents do when my dad was brought back from the dead? What’s wrong with me? They didn’t go around being idiots after they put the villains on the island.”

Diana gave her a strange look. “No. They deserved to live happily ever after, of course.”

That got Ivy’s full attention. What would make up her own happily ever after? _Of course_. Like a puzzle piece slipping into place, she realized how big of a role Clara had become in her story, and how much it kept hurting to force Clara away. Dropping her fork, she jumped to her feet. “I changed my mind.”

Diana rolled her eyes and went back to her pasta. “About time.”

***

A tapping woke Clara with a start. She lay still, wondering if she’d dreamed it, but then it came again from the balcony. She rolled out of bed and went to look out the window.

And gasped when a face appeared in the glass. It took her a fear-filled moment to realize it was a familiar face, and though her heart still hammered, she opened the balcony door. “Ivy?”

Ivy didn’t enter the room. Her lips opened, but no sound came out.

“How did you get up here?” Clara asked.

Ivy motioned to the vines climbing the sides of the castle. “I’m growing on your walls.”

Clara laughed, and Ivy’s expression brightened a little. “Come inside.”

“You’re not mad at me? For what happened?” Clara could almost feel Ivy’s apprehension coming off her in waves. She’d imagined this moment, Ivy coming to her cowed like Clara’s mother clearly thought Ivy should, but now that the moment was here, Clara realized she preferred the confident version of Ivy she’d come to enjoy being around.

“I was,” Clara replied. “My parents certainly are. But I knew the danger just as much as you did, and I still decided to go. It wasn’t your fault any more than it was mine. Please come in, it’s a cool night.”

Ivy finally stepped inside, and Clara closed the balcony door. She busied herself with lighting a candle on her bedside table, then sat on her mattress and motioned Ivy to join her. “I was worried you wouldn’t say goodbye before you had to go back to Corona.”

“Really? I’m…sorry.” Ivy twisted a white flower from the vine outside between her fingers. “Diana said that you’d gotten your legs back. Did you do it yourself?”

Clara shook her head. “My grandfather did. I’m going to work with my aunt Aquata until I can control the transformation myself. She’s got the strongest affinity with magic in my family, besides my grandfather.”

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Ivy said in a small, serious voice, and Clara’s heart constricted. “I missed you.”

Clara rested her head against Ivy’s shoulder. “I missed you too.”

They were silent for a couple minutes, Clara enjoying having Ivy back. It had been almost boring without her. Safe, but boring.

“Prince Ben asked to meet with me,” Ivy said abruptly.

Clara straightened her head, frowning. “Prince Ben? Why?”

“He agreed that we shouldn’t be ignoring the island. He’s going to extend amnesty to a few of the villains’ children as a trial run to see if they want a chance at becoming law-abiding citizens. They will, of course, be closely monitored. Just in case.”

Clara thought that over. “It does help to have a plan and the resources to make it happen,” she finally said lightly.

Ivy laughed. “Yeah, hopefully it won’t end in people being terrified and transforming themselves in a desperate attempt to escape.”

Clara nudged Ivy. “It was my decision to come along, remember? And now that I’m safe again, I can be grateful to you, actually.”

“Grateful? Why?”

“If I hadn’t been pushed so far, I might never have discovered that I had a tail.” They looked at each other. “Just promise me that it’ll be at least another decade before you dream up another adventure for us again, okay?”

Ivy started to smile. “You mean you think we’ll still be friends in a decade?”

Clara felt her smile falter, and she quickly looked down to her lap. “Yes, of course. My parents will come around eventually and let us be together. As friends.”

Ivy’s fingers found Clara’s chin and gently turned her face up. What Clara saw in her eyes made her heart skip a beat. Ivy opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again. She leaned in, watching Clara the whole time, who felt like she’d been frozen.

Ivy stopped so close to Clara’s face she could feel her breath on her nose. Clara realized Ivy was waiting for her to decide whether to pull away or continue forward.

Clara continued forward.

It was a sloppy kiss, entirely too wet, the movements unpracticed, and Clara knew she would remember it fondly for the rest of her life. When they pulled away, Clara shaking with adrenaline and pleasure, Ivy’s eyes wide with wonder, Clara linked their fingers together.

They smiled at the same time and laughed, tension breaking into an easiness that Clara was happy to fall into. “You still haven’t promised to stay safe for the next decade.”

“I thought the promise was for adventuring, not safety. I don’t know if I can do safety,” Ivy teased.

“I did say I was overprotective about the things I care about.”

Ivy brushed her fingers along Clara’s cheek, and Clara leaned her head into Ivy’s palm. Ivy tucked the flower behind Clara’s ear. “Then I’ll do my best,” she said.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”


End file.
